Playing By the Numbers
by slyprentice
Summary: The first time Peter Burke sleeps with Neal Caffrey, it's a few weeks after being assigned the younger man's case, his superiors hoping that he'll cross the T's and dot the I's on this thing before it gets anymore out of hand.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Playing By the Numbers  
><strong>Author<strong>: Prentice  
><strong>Fandom<strong>: White Collar  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Neal Caffery/Peter Burke  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own it, but if I did, something like this would have probably happened.  
><strong>Spoilers<strong>: For the entire series, just to be safe.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I started writing this for my sister as a lark and then it kind of grew into a monster...who enjoys porn and a tiny dose of plot...who knew?

**Summary**: The first time Peter Burke sleeps with Neal Caffrey, it's a few weeks after being assigned the younger man's case, his superiors hoping that he'll cross the T's and dot the I's on this thing before it gets anymore out of hand.

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><p><strong>First<strong>

The first time Peter Burke sleeps with Neal Caffrey, it's a few weeks after being assigned the younger man's case, his superiors hoping that he'll cross the T's and dot the I's on this thing before it gets anymore out of hand. He takes it, what choice does he have, and doesn't realize it's Neal he's tumbling into this _thing _with him until it's much, much too late. After all, there's only a few photos of him, grainy CCTV shots from banks and art galleries that show a man, impeccably dressed, charming his way into some of the most secured facilities across the country.

They're not enough to tell details from, however, and have nothing on the piercing blue eyes that smile at him from across the bar or the grin that stretches across lips when he raises his eyebrows, questioning and beckoning. He should have known then, of course, with the suit and the tie, with the mussed hair and charming personality. He should have known, but he hadn't and comforts himself with the fact that what happens after the drinks and the talking just seems inevitable.

He and Elizabeth have had an understanding for years, in any case, and it's one that is comfortable and homey to the both of them, and so he doesn't feel guilty when he back Neal – or Kyle, rather; he said his name was Kyle – into the dirty alley wall behind the bar and jerks them both off with rough, dirty strokes that leave him hungry for more. He almost (almost) asks for Kyle's number when it's all over and they're panting for breath; contemplates for half a second what it would be like to spend the night wrapped up in this man's scent, this man's body, but discards it immediately. He has a job to do and a criminal to catch so instead he kisses Kyle's lips, slowly and thoroughly, and licks across the inside of his mouth until he has it memorized.

When he pulls back, Kyle's eyes are glazed and wide, like Peter has surprised him, and for an uncomfortable, itchy moment Peter wonders how old the man – kid? – is, with his smooth skin and stylish suit, but shakes it off. He isn't Kyle's father and isn't going to make this something more than it is by trying to be, so he pats the man's cheek, zips him up, and walks out of the alleyway without looking back.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**_Note_**: I'm posting the "watered" down version of this story here - all that means is that there's going to be less profanity and different word choices for certain, er, aspects. You can check out the original at my journal. Enjoy!

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><p>The second time Peter sleeps with Neal, he still thinks he's Kyle, and doesn't question the 'hows' and 'whys' of the situation because it makes sense, seeing Kyle again, and he's happy about it. Happier than he's been in a long, long time, and he makes it a point not to think too closely about that. He just wants to enjoy it; the warm rush of feeling he gets when he claps eyes on the other man.<p>

Kyle's holding an umbrella over his head, dark blue, and smiles widely when their eyes meet across a crowd of busy New Yorkers. There's no tension, no practiced blankness in his gaze, as if he's trying to pretend he's never seen Peter before, and Peter doesn't hesitate to ask him out to lunch because maybe this is exactly what he needs right now. He needs a distraction, some time away from this Caffrey thing, and, more importantly, needs to see those eyes and that smile again, up close and personal.

They eat barbecue beef sandwiches at a deli down the street from the bank Caffrey cashed in his forged bonds at and Kyle - _Neal_- blows him in the warm confines of his four-door sedan. They're on a side street, tucked away from curious eyes and random passersby, disguised by a torrential downpour that hasn't let up. Neal is licking and sucking his member like it's a piece of candy he can't get enough of, and Peter threads his fingers into his silky hair, petting and encouraging until he comes with a growl that's half pleasure, half frustration because he wanted it to last longer.

He kisses Neal when the younger man sits up; lips swollen and cheeks flushed, sweeping his tongue inside his mouth like he owns it. He tastes himself there, and groans low and deep when he realizes Neal swallowed and that they didn't use a condom. They should have and it was stupid and careless not to, but he can't bring himself to give a damn now or when he palms Neal's erection free of its confines and swallows it down to the root.

It isn't easy. Jaw muscles he hasn't used in years strain under the sudden stretch and he knows he'll be paying for it come morning, but it's worth it to hear the startled shout that leaves Neal's lips and the way he suddenly grasps at Peter, startled and frantic, and tries to keep his hips from jerking up and up. It's worth it to hear Neal moan his name when not two seconds later he's flooding Peter's mouth with his come and curling over him.

They part after that with a kiss and a promise, and Peter jumps back into his case with a kind of vigor he hasn't had in years, loose limbed and confident that he can catch Caffrey before the next forged bond makes its way into the system.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

The third time he sleeps with Neal, it's just a few days before the fourth time he sleeps with him, and has to stamp down the almost painful urge to make this thing between them more official, more real. He can't, though; not yet. It's just too much too soon and he can't bring himself to lay this thing - relationship? - at Neal's - _Kyle's_- door yet.

Things between them are still too fresh, and Peter tries to tell himself that when he spots that oh-so-familiar flash of blue, blue eyes and stylishly tousled hair. He tries to tell himself that when he follows Kyle all the way to the train station and drops down into the seat next to him on a train headed away from downtown. He tries to tell himself over and over again, but there's been another robbery, another forgery, and his teeth are on edge; nerves are jangling inside of him because Caffrey has done it again (and again, and _again_) and it's starting to get to him, how easy Caffrey slips through his fingers.

When Kyle finally notices who's sitting beside him, he looks startled, eyes widening and lips parting, like he's wondering how long Peter has been with him; if he's been with him all along. Peter smiles at him, small and tight, and doesn't beat around the bush, doesn't ask him out to eat, just asks if he's busy at the moment. The answer is a hesitant 'no' and Peter wastes no time leading him off the train and to an old abandon building the bureau had kitted out for stake-outs and surveillance. It isn't in use, thank god, but Peter checks it over anyway before backing Kyle into a darkened corner, pulling at clothes and belts like his life depends on it.

They're out of the way in a flurry of movements; hands fumbling with zippers and buttons until he's rocking them together, members slipping and sliding in twitchy, sweaty glides that get smoother with every thrust forward. It feels incredible, like a thousand different things are settling into place inside him, and he can't help but groan and bite at the skin on Kyle's neck, teeth scrapping over tender flesh. It'll leave a mark, one that Kyle won't easily be able to hide, but he doesn't care. He wants the man to wear his mark, wants him to look in the mirror and remember everything that they've done together.

It isn't over as quickly as last time, despite their frantic rocking, and Peter takes a perverse joy in bringing them to the edge over and over again before pulling them back. It's like a game, seeing how far they can go, and he brings them to the edge twice before they're both too worked up to hold back anymore. They tumble over the edge together, Peter with a low drawn out groan that seems like it reverberates through the building and Kyle with a hoarse shout that might have been Peter's name and might have not.

When they finally leave, it's with a lazy drawn out kiss that Peter thinks about all the way back to his hotel room and jerks off to the next morning when he's in the shower. Afterwards, he shelves it, because he has to work, has to be able to concentrate, and buries himself in the investigation until there's nothing left to know save for why they always seem to be one step behind Caffrey in this cat-and-mouse game they're playing. And they are playing, at least in Caffrey's mind, there's no doubt about that.

It isn't until later, much later, when he's got evidence lists, photographs, and a pile of case folders spread across his dining room table and is trying to think outside the box (like Caffrey), that he realizes that he has a dark red love bite on his neck that's only just now fading. He touches it, fondles it really, and flushes pink when Elizabeth notices and teases him about it mercilessly, her eyes warm and laughing. Boy, had he married the right woman.

TBC

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><p><strong>kenziecaffrey<strong>: Yep, that's my plan. Thanks for the review! :)


	4. Chapter 4

The fourth time he sleeps with Neal, it's only a handful of days later, and he thinks that maybe the universe is trying to tell him something because when he looks up from where he's taking a late, late lunch at a hot dog stand, he sees Kyle staring at him. He finishes the rest of his dog in two bites and crosses the street, barely resisting the urge to kiss the man hello. Instead he settles for a grin and shake of his head when Kyle asks him if he's busy, and follows the man to one of the nicer hotels in the area.

It's the kind of place he might have taken Elizabeth once, before they'd settled into their agreement for having a happy companionable marriage with no strings attached. He couldn't have afforded it unless it was for a special occasion though and bites down the urge to ask questions when the doorman greets Kyle by name and doesn't blink an eye when Peter follows him. He's the one who started this 'no questions and no answers' thing between them, and goes with the flow, even when he realizes they're headed to the penthouse.

It's spacious and extravagant, and has more square footage than the last three places he's lived, including the house he and Elizabeth now own. He tries not to be impressed when the other man doesn't bat an eye at all the luxury but instead turns and stares at him. His expression is hopeful and expectant, like he's waiting for Peter to make the first move despite having invited him into his own space, if only temporarily.

It's an invitation that he can't resist and he moves in, a tight coiling knot of pleasure burning in his belly. It's a complete blur from the first kiss to the sofa; where Kyle is pawing helplessly at the pillows and Peter is touching him with the focused deliberation of a man who likes to take care of his partner. The way Kyle moves is enough to tell Peter that he hasn't been with a man, at least not recently or, more likely, ever, and he won't soon forget the look of bliss-ed out surprise that spread across that beautiful face when he brushed against Kyle's prostate for the first time. It had been wonder and awe, pure ecstasy, and he'd had to squeeze himself just so he wouldn't come from that look alone.

He's only gotten two fingers in, scissoring and stretching, massaging that little bundle of nerves that makes Kyle squirm, before it's too much and Kyle is shouting hoarsely, limbs shaking as he comes all over the upholstery. It takes him a while to recover and Peter gives him that, stroking a hand down his back in slow soothing circles, before he slips to the floor, naked and loose limbed, and sucks Peter's dick. His fingers wiggle beneath Peter's thighs and pushes, just a little, until Peter understands what he wants, fingers threading through silky hair, holding Kyle's head steady as he starts to thrust.

He's gentle at first, unsure of just how far he can go, but Kyle is urging him faster and deeper and soon he's lifting his hips in earnest, guiding Kyle's bobbing head until he spills down his throat with a hoarse shout. He loosens his hold on the man's hair, combs his fingers through it, almost but not quite shivering at the way warm breath ghosts across his thighs. The 'you're good at that' slips past his lips before he can think about it, and he enjoys the blush that steals across Kyle's pale cheeks, like he's embarrassed about the praise even as he's eating it up. It makes him look young again but Peter isn't as disconcerted as he was last time and smiles when the man pushes him onto the clean part of the sofa, crawls into his lap, and presses a bruising kiss to his lips before settling against him, happily sated.

They stay like that for awhile, warm and satisfied, cocooned by plush cushions and each other's limbs, before finally Kyle pulls back, stares into Peter's eyes, and asks him, shyly, if he can stay. Peter wants to say 'yes', the lure of having a few more hours like this so tempting he can taste it, but he's not a man to shirk his responsibilities. He needs to get back to work, put in a few more hours on one of the smaller cases his team is handling while they wait for the lab to finish processing Caffrey's latest heist and get started on the mountain of paperwork that comes with being an agent who's good at his job.

He could stay, could call-in and claim a sudden bout of food poisoning, but he doesn't want to set that precedence yet. Not with Kyle, who he feels like he's known forever, but who he honestly knows nothing about save that he seems to want Peter as much as Peter wants him. He can't do that to them.

Leaning forward, he presses a kiss against the tip of Kyle's nose, watching as eyelids flutter close before pressing kisses against those, too. He won't stay, not this time, but next time…


End file.
